


let's take off tonight, wanna hear you scream

by colferstilinski



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bestiality, Boypussy, Hybrids, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding, Scenting, This oneshot is actually really self indulgent and a kinks galore sort of thing you've been warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 06:40:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/683972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colferstilinski/pseuds/colferstilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles kind of loves that he gets to share something extraordinary in common with Derek. Physically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let's take off tonight, wanna hear you scream

**Author's Note:**

> P/s: This is unbeta'd and definitely not proof-read, so, yeah...
> 
> Basically boypussy strafes away from all transgendered topics. Stiles is /not/ biologically female and identifies himself as a male. He /is/ a dude who just so happens to have biological female parts. It's all fictitious, there's no such thing in real life. Boypussies also /do/ have sub-categories, having just the female genitalia is not the only boypussy. There's no right or wrong types of boypussy, if it's your kink, it's yours. No harm, no foul. Boypussies include: Male with both female/male genitalia. Male with both female/male genitalia and also has the prostate/g-spot. Male with both female/male genitalia but only has a prostate. Male with both female/male genitalia but only has a g-spot. Or male with only female genitalia. Or male with female genitalia and prostate.
> 
> Really, anything goes with boypussies. If it gets you all hot and bothered in your loins, then you've found your type of boypussy!

Stiles kind of loves that he gets to share something extraordinary in common with Derek. Physically.

See, Derek is a hybrid, he’s a mix of human and wolf—they, _hybrids_ , are uncommon. It’s not exactly a rarity unlike his, but to witness one in this day of age is kind of to be marvelled upon. Derek isn’t the poster child for hybrids, either. His crossbred stature is more… _intimate_ rather than on an outlook perspective.

They’re mostly below the waist and above the knees, which is where the common equation falls upon.

Stiles has a rare condition, well, it’s not really a ‘ _condition_ ’ but the highly educated doctors who have done tests on him seems to think so, eh—He doesn’t though, and that’s what counts. Anyway, he has a vagina instead of a dick, and it’s really no biggie since he doesn’t get the monthly ordeal because physically, he _is_ a dude.

He just possesses female genitalia instead of well, a male’s. That’s just about it. It’s awesome, though, the whole multi-orgasms thing that comes with it.

Which circles back to the fact with Derek, because while Stiles has some _‘complex genitalia issues’_ , Derek has a dick of an animal— _hybrid_ , you see? Some hybrids are easily recognized by twitchy ears spouting from the sides of their head, or a tail wedged nicely on their ass crack, Derek has fur for pubes and a nice, very furry sheathe instead of foreskin.

Their common crotch region factor didn’t really make a difference, pre-sex, of course. It was just the acknowledgement that their other half is a little different in the sack, and then there’s the hushed reassurances that they could be weirdos together, until they finally move on to the let’s have sex now phase.

Well, even at that, it still didn’t make any difference.

-

“ _God_ , look at you.” Stiles murmurs in awe, breathless.

They’re both naked in bed, the last item of clothing thrown onto the granite floors of Stiles’ bedroom and they’re just drinking each other in. Even though Stiles has seen Derek stark nude more times he can count with both hands, it still astonishes him each time.

That the mere fact that Derek is his, has been his for few months now, and that all of _this_ , the intimacy they’ve shared, are sharing, with each other—It makes his mind goes into overload. But, physically talking, Derek’s attributes still has his mouth watering up since like the first time they stripped off all their clothes, all heady anticipation and raging hormones.

Derek’s skin is nicely bronzed by the unforgiving summer’s sun since he’s been doing some side construction work with his uncle. He almost wants to ask if he does his work without clothes on because there are absolutely no tan lines at all, and it should be unfair that someone this gorgeous gets to receive all the nicer things in life—like, skin that tans and tones effortlessly.

Stiles get sunburnt even when there’s a downpour. It’s tragically sad.

Derek doesn’t even seem fazed under his thick scrutiny, unlike the first few times when they fooled around and he kept ducking and hiding under the covers, nope. Now he has his hands nicely tucked under his head against the pillows while his legs are bent loosely at the knees, giving Stiles ample of space to leer at his dick openly.

If Stiles accidentally drools, well, there are already tissues at the ready.

Derek is still soft though—never really getting hard all the way until he’s fully balls deep in Stiles just like dogs and wolves when they’re about to breed their bitches. Yes, he has done his research. Stiles’ curiosity and Google are one of the worst combinations to have in the world and he swears one day, the headquarters at Google Inc. are going to file a lawsuit on him for his outrageous questions.

Anyway, under Stiles’ heavy gaze, Derek’s cock starts to twitch, just once or twice, and Stiles lays there, entranced, watching the way his dick starts to thicken and swell under the furred sheathe until the pinkish tip of his cockhead peeks out.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Stiles groans and presses a chaste kiss on his pec. “ _You’re_ hot.”

Derek grunts, acknowledging him that his time for staring is up before he’s diving nose first into the crook of Stiles’ neck, inhaling him. There’s a light of flutter of eyelashes against his skin, can almost picture the blissed out look Derek always his face after he takes that first hit.

“Love it when you smell like this.”

Stiles hums appreciatively, grinning a little smugly. “And how do I smell like?”

Derek huffs, the vibrations of it tickling against Stiles’ naked chest while coarse grains of stubble rubs and pricks against his neck. It’s a scenting thing, well, that’s what Google and Derek told him. Something about imprinting one’s scent on an individual—a mark.

“Of me, of us, my scent is all over you. In your hair, on your skin, your pussy, and after we’re done fucking, your insides will smell of me too.” There’s a low rumble of what Stiles thinks is a hushed growl. “Fuck, I wanna paint your insides with my come.”

Derek has always pulled out since the first time they started having sex. It was something that they’ve agreed on without really discussing since there was the whole deal about hybrids knotting and how condoms don’t fit nicely on his dick, or you know, the eventual mess.

“ _Yes_ ,” Stiles agrees, albeit too fast but whatever. “I want you to. This time, don’t—don’t pull out.”

Derek’s nose flares and in a blink of an eye, he’s crowding on top of Stiles, knees tucked at the sides of Stiles’ hips as he nips at the thin skin behind his ear, laving it with his tongue to soothe when the skin breaks and starts to colour against his teeth.

Stiles is writhing under him, back arching, and fingers squabbling for skin to hold, to sink his blunt nails and drag until it leaves a trail of red. Another great thing about being with hybrids is that their pain endurance levels are much better than a normal human can take.

“You’re sure?” Derek finally says, panting, and Stiles all but whimpers at the loss of contact. “I’ve never—you know, came inside, and there’s the whole—”

“Where your dick is gonna swell up and lock inside me?” Stiles finishes for him meekly. “Already knew that and yes, Derek, I _want_ it. I want you to come inside me and plug that shit inside me for thirty minutes until I’m sore and leaking with your man juice.”

Derek grimaces, eyebrows pinching. “Man juice? _Really_?”

“Wolf juice?” Stiles teases, eyebrows waggling. “Well, whichever, I want your jizz.”

“Christ, I can’t handle you.” Derek groans and he crashes his lips against Stiles, moaning into the kiss with a deep rumble in his chest. His hands flutters to Stiles’ pelvis, thumbs tracing on hipbones with a fleeting touch before they cup his sex, massaging his pubic mound while his fingers lazily dips into the folds of his lips.

He’s _wet_ , he knows it, feels the moisture gathering at his entrance and smearing on the insides of his thighs. Or, you know, the tell-tale of how obscene the noises his pussy and Derek’s fingers are making that rings in his buzzing ears.

“I’m ready, c’mon.” Stiles urges, impatient and cheeks flushed.

There’s a slip and slide of fingers as they circle on his clit, pinching and flattening with rough fingertips before they back down to his opening, lightly scritching with blunt nails against his pussy lips.

Derek presses two fingers in, knuckle deep, without warning and Stiles chokes out a broken groan. The fullness is satisfying, familiar, but it’s not really what he wants right now. He wants a good fucking session that leaves him keening for air, pulsating in his core.

“Want you inside me since twenty minutes ago, fuck, _please_. Oh— _shit_! Do that again.”

Derek smirks against his cheek, licking up the beads of sweat slowly gathering at his sideburn before he does it again, a gentle twist of his wrist and circles his fingers deep inside him. Stiles moans like how the girls do in porn, humiliatingly loud and about seven hells outrageous, as he bucks his hips into Derek’s hand, urging for more.

Derek’s breathing roughens up, laboured and hot against his shoulder, and Stiles glimpses down only to see he’s half hard, about four inches of his cock is unsheathed, swollen with blood and sheened with blue-green veins. There’s also the light tickle of soft furs of Derek’s sheathe against his abdomen but he’s too turned on to giggle at the sensation.

“C’mon,” Stiles whines and decides to take matter in his hand when Derek huffs at him, admonishing him to be patient.

He reaches down to grip the base of Derek’s cock with an expert hand, doing things just the way Derek likes it after countless of experiments, twisting and palming it in even pacing. There’s a dull pulsing throb against his sweaty palm from where Derek’s cock starts to react, feels him lengthen and thicken in his hand before he’s pushing himself up from the bed until Derek’s crotch is against his.

He juts his hips up a little, arching them as he gazes down to watch the sharp tip of Derek’s cock slide against the folds of his vagina, slicking his dick up with his wetness before he lines it at his entrance.

“Fuck _me_ ,” Stiles says, he’s not even asking at this point, and there’s a challenging tone in his words, leaning more towards mocking.

Derek growls and snaps his hips front, his cock plunging deep into Stiles and sheathing himself until his balls smack against his ass. Stiles chokes on a moan, digging his heel into Derek’s ass and holding him there, hands scrabbling onto shoulders as he takes the pressure of being filled.

When Stiles finally coos down into a pitiful whimper, Derek takes that as a sign and pulls back a little, a few inches before he snaps his hips front again, chasing his heat.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. How are you still this tight, god—” Derek snarls and his voice sounds like it has been wrung out from his lungs, hoarse and deep. “God, this pussy is all mine, wet and hot—mine to take, fuck and use and spoil it until nobody else wants to slide their cock inside.”

“It’s yours,” Stiles whines and he’s gasping in shock when Derek starts to swell inside him, the beginning of his knot catching at the rim of his entrance and lengthening each time he drawls his cock out and then shoves it straight inside him again.

He feels wrecked. His _vagina_ is wrecked.

“Always been yours since the first day I sat beside you in AP English, oh fuck—Deeper, shit.” Stiles pants out, his voice is cracking and there are tears welling in his eyes from how good it is, to just take, take, take and let Derek fuck his brains out. “Went home that first day and rubbed myself dry, did you know that, Der— _ek_ , yes, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Derek clenches his jaw tight and grabs Stiles by the waist and pulls him from under, dragging and shoving at him like a doll, limp, until he’s on top of him. “Tell me more. Did you wet your sheets with your come? God, no wonder I could smell your pussy the next day. _Christ_ , Stiles.”

Stiles would have been screaming from the abrupt change of angle and position but he’s so used to Derek manhandling him around while they’re having sex that it’s natural. He just slips into a coma of ecstasy and presses both his hands against his chest, swivelling his hips in neat little rotation.

“Oh fuck, I can feel your dick in my stomach.” Stiles cries, head tossing back and he should be worried that he’s damaging internal organs or something but he’s pretty sure that if he has internal bleeding, he would have died the first month they fucked. “Yes, it was the first time I fucked myself with three fingers. I was so wet, oh fuck, so wet and I _needed_ you _so_ badly, Derek. I needed your cock to fuck me until I choked with orgasms.”

Derek’s driving his fully hardened cock deeper now, the angle perfect for thrusting the entire length and sinking it there without much movement. Stiles feels the base swelling of his dick probing at his opening and he stretches his legs further, pulling apart his lips and takes it in, watches the way his pussy swallows the knot without much difficulty.

He’s so fucking lubed up with his wetness, he could probably have another finger slicked inside there.

“ _Stiles_ ,” Derek growls and his hips are frantic now, unsteady and his chest is heaving with effort as his hips bumps up against his ass, hitting that perfect spot inside him that has his toes curling up. “Fuck, I’m gonna come soon.”

Stiles reaches down and palms at his clit, rubbing furiously as he gyrates his hips obscenely on Derek’s dick and he feels him swelling even more inside him, like as if the mutation of his hybrid dick wasn’t good enough, there’s the whole knotting situation.

He’s so full, so _complete_ , that he doesn’t even know he’s whimpering in pleasure from the heavy pressure of it.

Derek sits up and curls his legs under Stiles, catching the back of his neck with his hands as he holds his head up and captures his lips with such vigorous passion, thrusting his warm tongue into his mouth, licking at his teeth and the sides of his mouth. He kisses Stiles until they’re left breathless, panting, stringy saliva dribbling on their chins.

Derek smacks away the hand that Stiles has clutched onto his clit and helps him instead. Smart callous fingers that have brought him pleasure in countless ways possible—everything they’re doing starts to him in a wave.

The way Derek is scrambling with his clit, two fingers circling and flattening unsteadily while the fine shifting of fur is tickling against his pussy lips. The constant swivel motion of hips and the way Derek’s sharp cockhead is poking and smoothing against the areas inside him that leaves him panting, whining—an absolute incoherent mess in Derek’s arms.

“Oh fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck, there, oh my _god_! There, Derek, _oh shit_ , I’m—” Stiles’ screams fall silent and he pulls onto Derek’s hair at the back of his head, waves of pleasure hitting him from his core, twisting and bleeding under his skin until he’s limp and loose, soaring with relaxants his body is producing.

Derek follows up a few seconds later when Stiles starts to settle down from his orgasm, the walls of his vagina stops pulsing around his cock. Derek hisses out a warning, it’s nice that he would because from all the porn he watches, not a lot of dudes do that before he grinds his cock deep in, lodging the knot inside Stiles as he swells, throbbing, pulsating as he fills him up.

“Shit—” Derek grunts and then he stops moving abruptly, letting his orgasm wash over as he presses his forehead against Stiles’ shoulder. “There’s a lot, oh, fuck, _Stiles_.”

Stiles whines at the pressure, oversensitive from his orgasm, and it sits heavy at the base of his stomach like he’s eaten too much in one sitting. “Derek, it’s too much. Dude, shit, it’s starting to hurt.”

“I _can’t_ —” Derek mewls, he fucking _mewls_ and his shoulders are shaking from the intensity and he’s still canting his hips a little, like Stiles’ vagina is trying to milk him dry and he has no control whatsoever. “It’s the first time I’ve—shit—ever done this, I can’t do anything about it— oh _shit_.”

Stiles groans in discomfort, the position they’re in is keeping him, them, from making any minute movements because it hurts now that he’s not chasing after pleasure, he’s spiralled back into his bedroom, with a hybrid’s knot stretching about his opening and he’s afraid that might tear the soft skin around it if he shifts even just a little.

“Derek—I _can’t_ , not anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” Derek sort of whines-moans, kissing his shoulder softly for comfort as he rubs the bottom of his back. It helps, a little, sort of, but the pressure is in the front rather than at the back so it’s just a nice touch rather than a helpful touch. “It’s finishing soon. I’m so sorry, baby.”

“It’s okay,” Stiles whimpers, kissing him chaste on the lips and at his temples. “You’re doing the clean-up though.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, look at me hitting all the things the fandom hasn't been brave to tackle. Also, fucking weird ending but let's just say it's an open ending for more (pfft, excuses).
> 
> Leave a comment if these kinks hit you in the right spot because man, I'd really love to scream at your face to be best friends with me.


End file.
